


between you and me (there is no line)

by zhujungjungting (runswithchopsticks)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Dom/sub, M/M, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Stockings, Sub Mark, soft dom taeyong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 22:04:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16184096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runswithchopsticks/pseuds/zhujungjungting
Summary: The shock and tingling excitement still hasn't completely worn off Taeyong's skin and hands even though it has been quite some time since he's learned of Mark'sothercharacteristics, the ones he keeps hidden, not on purpose, but more so like an instinct that only resurfaces if triggered properly. It's something that's a part of him, embedded in his personality that he himself probably can explain why it's there just as much as Taeyong can explain why Mark can be so different under various circumstances.It's not at all forced or fake -- that's what it is,natural.





	between you and me (there is no line)

**Author's Note:**

> i am appalled at the lack of sub mark in the tag  
> so this came about as a result

_start._

* * *

You never would have guessed it based upon pure physical looks and manners. The young ones like to joke and say he always walks with a swagger, which isn’t entirely a lie.

Mark's mannerisms and just purely the way he moves while under the glare of a lens does seem very swaggering, both literally and figuratively. There is a reason why their company pushes him so much compared to many of the others. It's not just the fans that have an uncanny admiration for him, but his fellow bandmates as well can't help but admire just how fluently he controls an audience, especially one of them in particular.

The shock and tingling excitement still hasn't completely worn off Taeyong's skin and hands even though it has been quite some time since he's learned of Mark's _other_ characteristics, the ones he keeps hidden, not on purpose, but more so like an instinct that only resurfaces if triggered properly. It's something that's a part of him, embedded in his personality that he himself probably can explain why it's there just as much as Taeyong can explain why Mark can be so different under various circumstances.

It's not at all forced or fake -- that's what it is, _natural._

And that's the only word Taeyong can use to describe Mark sometimes.

He'd known it ever since the very first time he'd cradled Mark between the mattress and his body, up until now where Mark is framed by wrinkled sheets, his hands curled into fists on either side of his head, chest beginning to press up towards the ceiling as his back arches, and the hem of his shirt pushed all the way up to his collarbones.

That's what Mark is, a _natural,_ and Taeyong finds it as amazing as he does erotic.

Mark chooses to be quieter at times like this, or maybe it's not so much a choice as it is a natural reaction for him. Sometimes it makes Taeyong think he's doing something wrong, but then a hushed moan grazes past his ear and reassures him that his hands are far from committing undesired sin.

He dips his head down, kissing at the rise of Mark's chest while his palms explore leisurely, running up and down the tops of Mark's thighs and feeling the soft cotton of the stockings that end his mid-thigh. They're simple, nothing extravagant, yet unbelievably enticing and inviting under the right circumstances, much like their wearer.

It's nothing lacy or delicate. It's just sheer white cotton and plain white garters with silk ribbon bows sewed onto the fronts.

They're just the perfect balance between forgiving and merciless to where Mark easily heeded Taeyong's request, having slipped them on almost eagerly, and Taeyong was once again hit with that tingling in his fingers and his heart, stronger than ever, and there was nothing that could draw his attention away from the softness beneath his fingertips and the almost-greedy firmness of the grip of the person pressed between him and the bare sheets.

He uses his teeth to draw a kiss in the center of Mark's chest, right over his sternum. The skin beneath his lips reddens at the pressure, colour blooming beneath Taeyong's fingertip as he traces the mark with his index finger after lifting up his head.

There's a slight tremble as Mark shivers, both from the tickle of Taeyong's light touch and the coolness of saliva from Taeyong's tongue that was left on his skin evaporating. That spot quickly becomes a similar hue of pink and red as Mark's nipples. It stands out for a moment before the skin around flushes slightly as well, and glancing briefly at Mark's face, Taeyong notes the burning in his cheeks. He's probably been staring long past what is withstandable for Mark.

It didn't take him long to uncover this particular sensitivity. One of Mark's constant characteristics, regardless of whether he's playing with the fans’ hearts or playing with Taeyong's self-control, is that he isn't easily embarrassed at all. Yet it seems that admirable control of his falters completely under the guise of a weakness that he, for once, has absolutely no say over.

They are naturally pinker than Taeyong initially expected, and redden easily just from a simple touch. It wasn't at all his intention to seek out Mark's sensitive spots. He'd just been kissing and licking like he usually would, wrapping his lips around a nipple and feeling it stiffen between his teeth as he played with the other one using his hand. He was just teasing like usual, rubbing it between his index finger and thumb in between swirling his tongue around it and revelling at the sheen of his saliva that covered such a pretty red-pink colour.

But he wasn't at all aware of the harsh quickening of Mark's breath, the tensing of his thighs as he curled his toes and brought his legs together, and the painful way he'd been arching his back, pushing as much of his chest as he could into Taeyong's mouth, until it became too obvious and he came even before Taeyong touched him properly.

The fact that his nipples were arguably as sensitive as his cock seemed to be more embarrassing than the fact that he just came unexpectedly early and completely untouched. For once in his life Taeyong had to employ a bit of coaxing for Mark to even vaguely admit his weakness, but all that shame flew out the window within the next few times they had sex, of which one of those instances Mark had bashfully demonstrated he could get himself off just from playing with his nipples, all while failing to look Taeyong in the eye and muffling his moans in the fabric of his shirt clenched between his teeth, which had been pushed up in order to present a very clear view of his actions.

Taeyong was equal parts both fascinated and turned on. He could use this new information in completely different ways, like drive Mark up a wall of embarrassment and just see how long he could contain himself before it was too much and he'd be coming again entirely untouched, or just use that weakness to take advantage of him, tease him and edge him until he's so sensitive and raw that he has no choice but to beg for Taeyong to touch him anywhere else.

But Taeyong isn't there to play with his pride no matter how alluring the idea of the bashful shame and lust tainting Mark's cheeks and chest red is. He’ll definitely toe that line, but one of the last things he intends is to cross it. The fact that he found someone like Mark, someone who fits against his body so flawlessly and desires his touch so willingly--not to mention his reactions are beyond perfect, beyond anything Taeyong could’ve conjured up in his dreams--that’s already enough to satisfy him.

His left hand slots perfectly against the curve of Mark's waist as he sucks a nipple between his lips. A heavy breath escapes Mark’s lips and his fingers curl harder into a fist, pulling the sheets further into his grip. His eyelids are fluttering half-shut, senses focused almost entirely on Taeyong’s touch as Taeyong trails his lips to the other side of Mark’s chest, tongue flat against Mark’s skin and leaving a shiny path of saliva in its wake.

When Taeyong mouths at the other nipple, wetting it with his tongue before using the soft insides of his lips to gently suck and pull at it, he feels Mark’s fingers thread through his hair, grabbing at the strands frantically to the point where his fingernails are scratching against the back of Taeyong’s head. He’s pressing his chest up even more, almost as if he were trying to bring Taeyong’s mouth closer to his skin, push more of himself into Taeyong’s mouth.

But Taeyong is quite aware that if he goes on for too long, he’ll definitely bring Mark to the edge and that might leave Mark himself a little unsatisfied, but it will definitely leave Taeyong more than unsatisfied.

So he retracts his mouth and flutters kisses further down Mark’s torso. He hears Mark let out a long and airy whimper, like he’d been holding in his breath for much too long. But his diaphragm still rises and falls quickly, displaying the contours of lean muscle beneath his skin and shaping the concave of his stomach. It’s one of Taeyong’s favorite images to see, especially when he gets to mold it himself with his own hands and mouth.

He kisses down into the dip created by Mark’s lower ribcage, feeling Mark’s body shift beneath his lips, up and down and up and down, uneven and stuttering from the anticipation building up quickly in his gut.

Taeyong hasn’t even touched him yet despite the fact that he’s wearing nothing but a long t-shirt and stockings, not even briefly brushing up against him. But Mark’s already fully hard, almost painfully so, and Taeyong taking his sweet time kissing down his abdomen is doing nothing for the excitement and arousal rushing through his veins, all pooling down into his crotch.

When Taeyong kisses his left hip, a breathy whine naturally escapes his lips, and his thighs tense. Taeyong’s mouth is so close to where he wants it most, and Mark’s looking forward to it so much that in his head he can already feel Taeyong slipping his lips over just the head of his cock, his mouth warm and wet and inviting, and Mark’s dick feels like it’s throbbing, body flushed red and twitching just slightly.

There’s precome beading at the tip, a bit sliding down the crown, and Taeyong really does want to lead down and take a taste for himself, suck Mark fully into his mouth and hear once again those kinds of sounds that are saved for his ears only, over and over until the stimulation is too much for Mark and he’s coming in Taeyong’s mouth where Taeyong can let strings of come hang on his tongue, the taste salty and bitter but nonetheless attractive, and kiss Mark until Mark’s lapped up all of his own come from Taeyong’s mouth and is begging for more, panting as drool coming from the corner of his mouth slides down his chin and his lips are red and slightly swollen.

But, as tempting as that is, that’s not what Taeyong wants to do today. He won’t touch Mark unless he has to--that is, if he just feels like it--and anyways, one of his favorite things to do is to edge Mark closer and closer until it’s too much and he’s coming completely untouched.

Taeyong kisses the inside of one of Mark’s thighs, biting softly and holding onto him by slipping his fingers under the straps of his garters and tops of his stockings and running his fingerpads gently over the skin there.

Mark sucks in a breath. He’s getting impatient, both mentally and physically, even though he’s well aware by now that Taeyong likes to take his sweet time exploring. But Taeyong has other ideas.

He props himself up, and Mark lifts his head, eyes blown wide with both curiosity and lust, staring at Taeyong with a shaky gaze.

“Change positions, baby,” Taeyong says softly.

“H-Huh?” Mark whispers, blinking a few times and trying to comprehend Taeyong’s words.

“Here.” Taeyong pushes himself up and removes himself from in between Mark’s legs. He scoots over and reclines down, back against a couple of pillows, tugging at Mark’s wrists to pull him up and into his lap. “Turn around.”

Mark obeys immediately, his actions a bit trembling. Taeyong is met with a view of Mark’s back, his shirt having fallen down and completely covering his torso, although a bit of his thighs are still visible between the hem of his shirt and the tops of his stockings.

Slowly, Taeyong slips his hand beneath Mark’s shirt, pressing his palm gently against the small of Mark’s back. He feels the rise of goosebumps beneath his fingertips and sees a shiver rack Mark’s body. Taeyong’s hand isn’t cold, and that fact only serves to emphasize how anxious Mark is.

He applies more pressure, and Mark falls forward easily. He seems to understand Taeyong’s meaning, made obvious when his back is already arching as his hips jut up and he presses back on his haunches.

“You’re really eager,” Taeyong notes, with a smile on his lips as he runs his palms up the backs of Mark’s thighs, feeling the soft cotton beneath his palms.

“Hyung, stop teasing,” Mark replies. He’s digging his fingers into the bottom of Taeyong’s shirt's hem, crumpling the fabric in his grip as his fists flex.

“Fine, then, scoot up. I can’t reach you like this.” Taeyong’s fingers make their way to the front of Mark’s thighs. His grip is firm and steady as he helps pull Mark higher up onto his chest. The position is a bit unsteady with Mark having to clutch even tighter onto Taeyong’s shirt, his legs already having been rather shaky in the first place, and now he’s got to support the majority of his weight on his knees.

But Taeyong adjusts himself, sliding down further until he’s almost lying down and Mark is able to easily balance himself on Taeyong’s chest.

“Beautiful,” Taeyong murmurs absentmindedly, sliding his palms up Mark’s legs, admiring the close view of the backs of his stocking-clad thighs and the garter straps and ribbons decorating them. There’s just a sliver of skin peeking out from beneath the hem of his shirt. The fabric had risen up from the swell of his ass emphasized by the way he’d been arching his back.

And as Taeyong slips his hands beneath Mark’s shirt, palms slotted against Mark’s ass cheeks, a shiver runs up Mark’s spine and he visibly trembles. His toes curl a bit. He knows what’s coming, and he clearly can’t contain the excitement.

Unlike his nipples, the skin around his hole is more brown, just a shade or two darker than the rest of his body. His fingers begin to dig into Taeyong’s skin when he feels Taeyong’s breath just right there, and an intense shiver courses up and down his body.

The first touch of Taeyong’s tongue to his rim has his thighs tensing and lips mouthing into the fabric of Taeyong’s clothing, muffling the string of noises that force their way out of his throat as Taeyong slowly pushes his tongue all the way in, past that initial ring of muscle.

“Hyung,” Mark whispers, “oh, _hyung--_ ” His face is flushing, the heat travelling not only to his cheeks, but the rest of his body as well. Goosebumps had appeared momentarily, but they were quickly smoothed over by Taeyong’s palm.

Taeyong pulls out his tongue, Mark’s rim shiny from being covered in saliva, and he begins to kiss whatever bit of skin he can reach, admiring how smooth Mark feels beneath his tongue. He gathers some saliva in his mouth and uses that to further coat Mark’s skin. Whatever he can’t catch that doesn’t dribble down his own chin instead slides down Mark’s perineum, all the way to his balls, and as Taeyong watches those drips of his own saliva descend, he’s tempted to shift positions so that he could dip his head down and lap them up before sucking one of Mark’s balls into his mouth, swirling over it with his tongue and the soft insides of his mouth and working his way up Mark’s cock afterwards.

But he has something else to focus on right now.

Mark’s rim flexes for just a second, a reaction to his arousal and the cooling sensation of Taeyong’s saliva as it evaporates. It’s useless, though, as Taeyong presses a deep kiss to it, teasing it by just sticking the tip of his tongue inside. Mark whines, and he’s pushing back on his haunches even more, trying to encourage Taeyong to go deeper, but Taeyong firmly squeezes Mark’s thighs -- it’s a signal to stop. Taeyong is in control here, so he gets to decide the pace.

He works his way in leisurely through wet kisses and soft scrapes of his teeth until he can’t push in any more and he’s gripping Mark’s thighs tightly to the point where his knuckles are white. All throughout, Mark’s curling and uncurling his fists and jerking his hips in small movements against Taeyong’s face, obviously trying to control himself but mostly failing to do so.

Taeyong pulls back his head and admires what he’s done. Not only is Mark’s back arching deeper than ever, pushing his ass and hips up in the air, pressing his balls against Taeyong’s torso, and his rim shiny with excess saliva, but also the skin around his hole is now a bit pinker and redder from all the stimulation.

Taeyong licks his lips, coating them wet and once again leaning forward to take a taste again. But before his lips meet Mark’s rim, he says, “Mark. How about you make hyung feel good too?”

“O-Oh, okay,” Mark shakily replies, the volume of his voice uneven.

“Come on.” Taeyong’s voice is gentle and coaxing, even though he knows it doesn’t take much encouragement to make Mark do what he wants him to do. He, in general, never uses his voice like this unless he’s dealing with one of the very young members, but when with Mark, it just comes out of his mouth this way, just like how Mark is normally rather loud and rowdy, but with Taeyong, he becomes smaller and quieter. Maybe it’s an effect of how he feels when he’s in this kind of situation with his hyung, or maybe it’s his desire to put on a show that satisfies both him and Taeyong.

Taeyong reaches down with one of his hands and clumsily undoes the button of his jeans. He doesn’t even need to do anything else as Mark’s already pulling at the zipper, his fingers trembling as he does so.

“Good, baby,” he murmurs, stroking one of Mark’s ass cheeks with his fingertips. “You know what to do.”

“Nngh.” It’s Mark’s half-hearted reply to acknowledge Taeyong’s words. The tone of Taeyong’s voice makes his actions even more eager than before, his fingers fumbling and scrambling, managing a few seconds later and suddenly his breath is hot against the shape of Taeyong’s cock.

Taeyong has to intake a sharp breath, momentarily pausing his lips and tongue. He feels Mark mouthing against the thin cloth of his underwear and his fingers curling over the form. It’s enough of a touch that he instinctively raises his hips just a bit.

Mark’s tugging down the waistband of Taeyong’s underwear not seconds later, hands warm and grabby. Taeyong feels the cooler air in the room hit his cock before Mark’s tongue is swirling over the head and guiding it past his lips.

“Holy fuck,” Taeyong hisses, fingernails digging into Mark’s ass. He forces himself to relax his grip, and when he shifts the placement of his hands a small amount of satisfaction blooms in his chest as he sees the reddened crescents dotting over Mark’s skin. Mark didn’t even complain; he just wiggled his hips a bit, rim expanding and contracting for a second as a way to tell Taeyong to keep on going.

Taeyong, of course, can’t help but oblige, especially when Mark is doing such a good job taking as much of his cock into his mouth at once.

“Taste good?” Taeyong asks, soothingly stroking the back of Mark’s thigh.

“Mnnhmm,” Mark murmurs, sounding more like a moan. Saliva is already gathering at the corners of his mouth and beneath his tongue, and he’s unable to contain it all in his mouth. It’s dribbling over his lips, slicking up whatever part of Taeyong’s cock he can’t reach with his mouth, coating his chin shiny, and for just a brief moment Taeyong is glad he can’t see Mark because it’d be a real possibility he could come just at the sight.

Perhaps he should reward Mark in another way, he thinks, pressing a soft kiss to Mark’s rim, gently and absentmindedly running the tip of his tongue over it and occasionally dipping it past his rim, partially just to tease and partially because he knows he enjoys being slow and thorough. So while he presses his tongue slowly into Mark once again, he makes sure to first run it over the pad of an index finger. His fingertip pokes at Mark’s hole at the same time half of his tongue has made it past that ring of muscle. Mark just briefly tenses up--a natural reaction--but he’s too focused on sucking Taeyong’s cock to take real notice of what’s happening.

It’s only when Taeyong’s slipped his index finger in all the way to the knuckle does Mark become fully aware of the intrusion. He tries to say something that instead comes out as a string of incoherent syllables, and Taeyong feels the vibration of Mark's throat against his cock. Mark is adjusting the placement of his hips. He's threatening to push even further back against Taeyong's hand, unsure how to control his body. His loss of concentration makes his actions sloppy, and now Taeyong's dick is sliding around in his mouth, guided poorly by his tongue and lips.

“Oh, fuck,” Taeyong hisses, momentarily pausing his actions. He knows Mark isn't even doing it on purpose, but the erratic way he is trying to keep his mouth on Taeyong's cock combined with a visual of the jerky way his hips are moving, beckoning Taeyong to put another finger in, is overpowering, and Taeyong has to lean his head back, breathing hard.

“You're doing great, baby,” he murmurs, voice filled with breath. He begins wiggling his index finger, pressing slowly and firmly against Mark's walls with as much control as he can muster.

“Hyung,” Taeyong can barely make out when Mark moans. The vibrations against his cock are more intense than ever, and the muscles in his lower abdomen quiver as the best continues to gather in his groin.

Mark gasps, and he's lifting his head, some of Taeyong's dick slipping out of his mouth, shiny and wet with saliva, but he forces himself to go back down a moment later, tongue sweeping against the underside of Taeyong’s cock.

Taeyong presses his lips against Mark's skin, muffling his groans while he begins to press in the tip of a second finger. He senses Mark tense momentarily against him at even a slight intrusion--not to mention he feels it noticeably as Mark's mouth briefly clamps down tighter around his dick--and so he gathers the saliva beneath his tongue and wetly kisses Mark's rim as the second finger pushes in just a bit more. The saliva eases the action just slightly, allowing Taeyong to slide the rest of his finger in with less discomfort for Mark, who's gasping as he mouths uncontrollably over Taeyong's cock, becoming more absorbed in the sensation of those fingers exploring inside of him instead of what he's supposed to be doing with his lips.

“Keep on going, hyung's getting close,” Taeyong encourages, his breath warm against Mark's skin, tone controlled and stable even despite the blood rushing in his veins as the pleasure increases in his gut. He's aware Mark knows how to really blow him the way he likes it most, but simultaneously Mark doesn't really need to do much, because his mouth is so hot and wet and just simply sloppily sucking Taeyong off could do so much, especially because it's Mark and somehow anything he does just comes to him _naturally._

Taeyong's letting his spit messily gather between his lips and Mark's rim, some dripping into his hole and some sliding down and over his balls. He is using his tongue to wet the area near his knuckles, making it easier for him to wiggle his two fingers inside Mark and begin to stretch him slowly. He starts just by prodding around with his fingerpads, stroking Mark's walls gently. Mark's warm and relatively tight, almost like he's trying to pull Taeyong's fingers further inside of him, wanting him in there as much as Taeyong wants to be in him.

It's tempting to just immediately add a third finger, watch Mark's rim flutter around the stretch as it accommodates to the width, and then Taeyong could really begin to press deeper inside of him, prodding near the general area of Mark’s sweet spot only to brush against it gently and watch his body shake. Taeyong can imagine it progress right in front of his eyes now: taking out his fingers once he's teased some and then replace them with his cock, slamming into that one sensitive spot and watching the small of Mark's back quiver as he scrambles for hold against the bedsheets.

But Taeyong knows he has to go slowly, not only because he doesn't want to harm Mark, but also because he wants to make sure he experiences every single touch so every single touch sends another tingle of pleasure up his spine.

Yet it's getting increasingly difficult for him to concentrate now. The heat around his dick is becoming too much, and he briefly thinks he should just let go.

He pauses his actions, gripping onto the back of Mark's thigh with his free hand. If Mark weren't wearing the stockings, Taeyong might have drawn blood with how hard his nails are digging into Mark's skin.

“Yes, that's it,” he breathes out, head leaning back.

Mark hums contentedly. He'd already loosened his throat, the head of Taeyong's cock hitting the very back of his throat. When he swallows, the walls of his throat close around Taeyong's dick, causing Taeyong to gasp loudly. Taeyong's now panting noticeably, mouth slightly agape.

It's not long before he's coming, hips raising into the air. Stars fly across his vision as he squeezes his eyes shut, and for several seconds he's completely unaware of his surroundings, engulfed in the tingling sensation of racing pleasure coursing through his body.

When his orgasm is beginning to fade, he sucks in a large breath. Opening an eye, he's presented with almost the exact same image as before he'd come--hand digging into the back of Mark's thigh and two fingers of his other hand deep inside him--except this time Mark's turned and lifted his head and is now looking at him, dribbles of come coating his lips and chin and Taeyong immediately feels his cock beginning to harden again.

Mark darts out his tongue, licking his lips and whatever part of his chin he can reach, and if Taeyong hadn't just come about half a minute ago he'd probably do so right now.

“Good?” he asks, voice quieter than before and a bit raspy.

“Yeah,” Mark replies, running his tongue over his lips once more. “Hyung tastes good.”

Taeyong feels his face burn a bit. He knows his face is probably already very red in general, but if possible it probably just got even redder.

“I'm glad you liked it,” he says softly. “You did a good job, baby. Just stay where you are, hyung will make you feel good.” He inwardly adds, _and I'm so lucky to have such a lovely baby like you._ The words sound kind of cheap in his head, and for some reason he feels nervous thinking about the way Mark would react, because he isn't quite sure if this is affection or love or just sex or all three, but he definitely means what he thinks.

Mark sighs, relaxing his body. He turns away and rests his head on Taeyong's lower stomach.

Taeyong briefly shakes his head before leaning forward and licking at Mark's rim again, fingers once again exploring. Mark is immediately eager to push back against Taeyong's hand.

“You’re really impatient today, aren’t you,” Taeyong offhandedly notes, after having mentally reminded himself that he shouldn’t think too hard at the moment. It’s easy to switch his attention to someplace more physical, and he feels himself slipping back into his most comfortable mindset.

Mark is impatient every time they do this, but Taeyong still says it anyways, something that comes out of his mouth nice and easy, kind of a reprimand but also not one at the same time. He could be scolding Mark for being too impatient, but his actions don’t stop, they don’t turn rough and harsh like a typical punishment would. He just firmly holds onto Mark’s thigh to prevent him from jerking his hips around too much and pushes more of his saliva into Mark with his tongue, keeping his fingers wet enough so that the entrance of a third one isn’t too hard and Taeyong can finally finger him properly.

He knows the general area of where Mark’s prostate is well enough, and he focuses on running his fingerpads gently just nearby that spot, spreading his fingers as well and watching with fascination and lust as Mark’s rim expands, adjusting easily. Mark is digging his toes into the mattress, almost as if he were propping himself up on his knees even though he doesn’t need to do so. There’s quiet and soft mewls coming from him. They would normally be much louder, but he’s biting into the cotton of Taeyong’s shirt, hands fisted into the hem, wrinkling the cloth and soaking it in sweat. Taeyong can feel Mark squirming around, not only wriggling just his head and hands, but also his lower abdomen and legs.

“Calm down,” Taeyong says, just as his index finger presses against a spot inside of Mark that makes his entire body jolt.

It’s pretty much like Taeyong didn’t say anything, because Mark is far from calming down as Taeyong begins to stroke that spot with just his single finger. Mark’s moaning is becoming increasingly louder, the sound filling Taeyong’s ears to where he can’t even hear his own thoughts.

He’s beginning to be able to pick up words in the noises coming from the back of Mark’s throat. “ _Hyung,_ ” he hears, high-pitched and almost like a whine, and that only makes his blood rush faster, “ _more, more, more--_ ” those words, they’re almost like whispers, somewhere between a hiss and a hush and it’s like Mark is losing his breath, which may as well be what’s happening.

Taeyong has to push on Mark’s thighs, holding on with his grip strong as his knuckles turn white. The sheets are crinkling beneath the balls of Mark’s feet, bunching together from all his scrabbling, and he’s already so worked up that when Taeyong begins to rub with two fingers it hardly makes that much a difference in his reaction.

“Hyung,” Taeyong hears. The word is shaky in his ears, and he’s not sure if the trembles were actually in Mark’s voice. “Taeyong-hyung--”

“Y-Yeah?” Taeyong replies, his voice almost croaking.

“I’m gonna come, I wanna come--” Mark’s words are slurred. No doubt that by now his temples and cheeks would be entirely scarlet and his skin shiny with sweat. “Please--” And he’s pushing his hips upwards, chasing Taeyong’s fingers that’d quickly withdrawn.

“Korean, Mark.” It doesn’t happen often; only when he’s real worked up or nervous does Mark mix his languages, but in this case it might be a combination of the embarrassment that wets his tongue and coats those words and his impatience that made him _choose_ to switch languages.

Well, Taeyong very well and fully knew what Mark said, even though the words themselves may be foreign to him. His actions are paused as he waits for a response.

“I d-don’t know how to say it in Korean.” Mark tries to jerk his hips, seeking more of that stimulation. But Taeyong digs his fingernails harshly into Mark’s thigh, and Mark squeals.

That’s a lie. There’s plenty of other boys in their group that Taeyong knows are much, much, much filthier than their outward appearances suggest. Mark definitely would’ve picked up a lot of dirty vocabulary way before he could even consider going to Taeyong for sex.

“Do you need me to force it out of you?” Taeyong’s voice is pitched lower and firm, but nonetheless his tone still retains a bit of its softness.

“N-No, I can… Taeyong-hyung…” Mark’s voice falls.

“Hmm?” Taeyong slowly retracts his fingers, which produces a displeased sound from Mark, who tries to look over his shoulder, although Taeyong stops him with a palm flat against his lower back.

“Off of me, baby. Get on your hands and knees.”

The room is silent except for the wrinkling of bedsheets as Mark switches positions. As he does so, Taeyong scoots over, leaning over to find what he’s searching for in the nightstand drawer.

Everything remains silent when Taeyong returns. Mark doesn’t move a single centimeter, but Taeyong can tell he’s fully attentive because the hair on his back and goosebumps rise when the mattress creaks as Taeyong kneels.

Taeyong uncaps the bottle in his hand, pouring a bit of its contents onto his fingers and warming it up by rubbing his fingers together. The lube is clear and scentless, something simple and easy, just like how he prefers it.

He recaps the bottle and tosses it aside before he slips both fingers back in Mark, and Mark’s shivering, because the lube isn’t quite warm enough, just a little bit too cold, but it’s encouraging especially when he feels the tip of Taeyong’s finger brush against his prostate.

Taeyong leans forward, bracing himself with his free hand, chest pressing against Mark’s back.

“You already know the answer,” he whispers, right in Mark’s ear. A third finger is pressing against Mark’s rim. “Of course you can’t come.”

The next sound is a drawn-out moan, practically right in Taeyong’s ear, and he swears he’s never been turned on by a sound so much in his entire life. It makes him tempted to just pleasure Mark with those three fingers for the rest of his night, always keeping him on edge and never letting him catch that satisfaction. He could sit there for hours and just watch and feel and hear Mark squirm beneath him, struggling to obey his hyung’s order. His cheeks and temples could heat because of frustration, but later burn because of the shame and embarrassment when Taeyong tells him that he knows he can do much better, be a good boy for once and don’t disappoint his hyung again.

But maybe tonight’s not quite the night, and Taeyong feels more considerate than usual. He kisses Mark on his back, right in between his shoulderblades, slowing down his fingers so he can be bigger with his movements. He spreads his fingers, and when he brings them back together, he can feel Mark squeezing around them, his body completely compliant to Taeyong’s actions.

“Hold it for me, baby.” Taeyong smiles smally against Mark’s back. He turns his head, and he can feel the contours of Mark’s muscle and flesh against his cheek. Even though Mark’s rather sweaty, the heat his body radiates is as tempting as always to Taeyong. He kisses his way down Mark’s back, until he reaches Mark’s lower waist and he’s pulling out his fingers.

Mark knows what’s coming, and so he keeps quiet. His breaths are noisy, chest heaving.

Taeyong sits back, shrugging off his jeans and underwear. He sucks in a breath when he feels the rush of cooler air hit his crotch, goosebumps momentarily appearing on his skin. He almost shivers when he runs his hand, slicked with cold lube, over his cock.

The remaining lube is wiped off on the sheets. He slides his hands over Mark’s hips, grip warm and firm. That hold proves to be useful when he lines the head of cock with Mark’s hole and pushes in, because Mark’s immediate reaction is to push back. Mark’s eagerness makes the heat in Taeyong’s gut flare, but he still has to hold Mark in place anyways. The beginning should be, and _is_ slow, with Taeyong taking complete control, carefully pulling himself out before pushing back in down to the hilt.

He wants just as much as Mark to hurry up, but he won’t. There’s still a bit of tension in Mark’s lower back, and Taeyong strokes soothingly over that area with a hand, telling Mark to let himself relax.

He hears a shuddering breath and sees Mark shifting his arms and hands by the way his shoulderblades are jutting up from beneath the loose cotton of his t-shirt. Nothing even needs to be said, Taeyong can just feel Mark relax beneath his palms, so he just pulls out and pushes back in, starting to build a pace.

Mark is quick to adjust to Taeyong’s increasing speed--he always is--and it’s not long before he’s clearly trying push back against Taeyong’s thrusts again, even going so far as threatening a faster rhythm.

So Taeyong pauses, and Mark curls his toes and whines. But Taeyong’s shifting his knees and re-angling himself.

It takes a couple of thrusts to hit where he’s aiming. It’s so obvious when he does, because Mark lets his lips hang open as sound after sound rises from the back of his throat. Taeyong’s not even going that fast, because he’s trying to get as deep in as he can with every thrust, but he’s having an increasingly more difficult time controlling the strength of his hips. Mark’s desperate to keep himself full, body squeezing around Taeyong’s cock with each push in, and Taeyong is tempted to just stay there, pull out only a little bit and drive his hips forward with as much force as he can. At the moment, he can only imagine the sounds that’d come out of Mark’s mouth if he did that: a squeak of surprise before he’d be whining and moaning, louder and louder, completely unable to muffle himself, and Taeyong would only use that as encouragement to go harder and faster.

But right now he’s just driving deep into Mark, watching Mark's body take him in greedily with every single thrust.

“ _Hyung,_ ” Taeyong hears. “Hyung, hyung, hyung, hy--” It’s a string of moans, cut off in a choked gasp as Taeyong briefly stutters his rhythm and hits Mark’s prostate without having almost fully pulled out right before. Mark’s arms are wobbling, threatening to collapse beneath him. He’s driving his hips up and easily adjusting to Taeyong’s new pace. Saliva drips from the tip of his tongue onto the sheets as he pants with his mouth fully open.

Taeyong feels sweat slide down his temple. “Can you say it now?” he asks, voice not as stable as before. His composure feels like it’s being tested as much as Mark’s ability to hold himself from coming.

“Go faster, p-please, more--”

“That isn’t it,” Taeyong interrupts. “Come on. Say it, or hyung won’t let you have what you want. Hyung won’t let you come.”

There’s a whimper. Taeyong can’t see Mark’s face. His head is dipping down as his arms weaken more and more, and even now his thighs are beginning to tremble with effort in keeping up with Taeyong’s thrusts and trying to control the pooling heat in his crotch.

Taeyong leans over, chest once again pressing against Mark’s back. The tips of Mark’s hair are matted with sweat, and his temple is shiny, but Taeyong can’t care. He just wants to hear Mark’s ragged breath and airy moans right next to his ear, see the flush on his face, see his pupils blown wide with lust and the swollen pink-red of his lips, and taste the salt of his sweat and the sweet of his saliva.

“You can beg all you want, but it won’t make a difference.”

Mark sucks in a breath, like he wants to protest, but Taeyong knows he won’t; the Mark you’d see out and about on a usual day would definitely do so, but this Mark won’t, especially not to Taeyong.

“T-Taeyong hyung, I w-want… to…”

“You want to what?”

“Come, please, hyung, I want to c-come--”

“Good boy.” Taeyong’s praise is sweet, soft, hushed because he himself is beginning to lose breath too, the air caught in his throat at hearing those words, not because of what they mean but because of the way Mark said them, voice smaller and slightly hesitant, and because of the fact that Taeyong told him to do so.

He’s kissing Mark’s neck, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. Mark turns his head, and Taeyong feels his head spin momentarily from what he sees. It’s different than anything that he could’ve imagined, because Mark’s face is right there, pink and red and dark and light in all the places Taeyong wants it to be, all because of him, and he presses in and kisses him open-mouthed. Mark can’t even reciprocate--he’s panting too heavily--but that’s okay, because Taeyong swallows his moans, their breaths against each other’s lips and drool dribbling out of the corners of their mouths, Mark clumsily mouthing against Taeyong’s bottom lip in an attempt to kiss him properly. It’s cute, sweet almost, and Taeyong feels a smile inch onto his expression.

“Alright, baby,” Taeyong whispers, against Mark’s lips. His hand on Mark’s hip lets go, sliding up Mark’s torso from his stomach up to his chest. “You can come.” He rubs one of Mark’s nipples between his index finger and thumb.

That’s the last straw, and it sends Mark over the edge. He’s coming with his scream captured by Taeyong’s tongue, drool sliding down his chin and eyes squeezed tightly shut.

His entire body trembles, and stars fly across his vision as he loses complete control over his body for several seconds.

But Taeyong still hasn’t hit his climax, although he can feel that he’s close. As Mark comes, he pulses around Taeyong’s cock, squeezing around the body and engulfing it in an intense heat. Taeyong’s hips are stuttering in uneven and rough thrusts. Even as Mark rides out his high and even when he’s slowly coming down from it, Taeyong is once again gripping his hips and driving into him.

Mark’s moans are now all gasped or choked, the continual stimulation against his prostate almost painful, almost unbearable; he’s too sensitive, too raw right after coming and his limbs are giving way under him until it’s only Taeyong’s hands on his hips and cock inside of him keeping him from falling flat onto the bed.

Taeyong grits his teeth, wincing, and his own thighs are trembling. It’s not long until he feels that tightening heat in his lower gut snap and he’s coming, breaths ragged and moans drawn out. His vision goes black for a solid several seconds, only beginning to fade and return to normal in splotches as he feels the intense pleasure in his body recede.

Four shallow breaths later and he’s briefly dizzy before he regains full consciousness and pulls out. Mark promptly collapses onto the mattress, legs twitching. Taeyong almost falls on top of him, although he barely manages to collect himself and lower himself on somewhere not on top of Mark.

“Hyung,” Mark begins, voice croaking. He clears it and glances away, clearly embarrassed. “I think you gave me bruises on my hips.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Taeyong asks, raising his eyebrows. He reaches up a hand and wipes away the sweat on Mark’s forehead, rubbing his palm on the sheets afterwards. Both of them would be briefly disgusted except for the fact that there’s come and lube over the sheets as well -- sweat is practically nothing at this point.

“I think you bruised my prostate too, if that’s possible,” Mark whines. If he had any strength in his arms left he’d try to shove Taeyong.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do that a--” Taeyong begins, and immediately there’s guilt crawling in his chest. He hadn’t made clear with Mark beforehand if it was okay for him to still fuck him through and after an orgasm, and along with that guilt, he begins to feel panic.

“N-No,” Mark interrupts, and he’s glancing away again, biting his bottom lip. Taeyong swallows, watching Mark’s teeth indent into the plush of his lip, which is still puffy and red. “I’m okay… if you do that again… just tell me beforehand.” His voice gets quieter the more he speaks.

Taeyong almost chuckles, amusement causing a small smile to appear on his lips, and for a moment he wonders how in the world Mark turned out to be someone like this. Even though the personality he slips into during sex is fading, it’s still an inherent part of him, something that lights up both Taeyong’s lust and affection, something that only Taeyong gets to see in its full form, exactly like it is.

He glances down, and there’s come drying on the white cotton of Mark’s stockings as well as dark patches of who knows what on his shirt.

“I’ll get those dry cleaned,” he says, and the next second he’s painstakingly sitting himself up and tugging on Mark’s hands, pulling Mark closer to him. It’s a bit of a struggle, because Mark immediately groans in pain.

Taeyong’s fingers are soon wrapping over the garter to one of Mark’s stockings with intent to help him take it off, but Mark interrupts him.

“You don’t need to dry clean them,” he says. “I think they’re just cotton, hyung.”

“But let’s keep them in good condition.” Taeyong is carefully slipping his fingers between Mark’s skin and the fabric, pulling down gently. “I like these ones.”

“Oh, okay.” Mark extends his leg, and Taeyong begins to roll down the stocking.

But when Taeyong reaches right above Mark’s knee, he pauses, and glances up at Mark.

Mark stares back at him, curious, his eyes half-lidded and his expression relaxed.

Taeyong is hit with a familiar feeling -- the kind he experienced often when he first got to see this other side of Mark, a fascination of some sort that quickly became a kind of attachment.

He looks down, and the rest of the stocking that he hasn’t pulled off yet is fitted against Mark’s leg perfectly, easily outlining the shape of his leg, with the curves of his calf and ankle and tracing the way his knee is slightly bent--

It looks so natural, and that’s what it is to Taeyong, everything that’s happened so far -- it’s all somehow natural, not at all forced, something that just came to the both of them easily and Taeyong just wants to press kisses all over Mark’s skin and whisper to him how good he is.

* * *

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> to my subbed/regular readers: lol sorry i have no priorities, my shit's everywhere, i think there's at least 12 wips in my docs spanning 3 (4?) different fandoms bear with me please
> 
> but yeah after starting the academic year it's been a roller coaster and so i have to pick through which fics to write carefully as i'm sacrificing my sleep each time i write


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